


convergence

by jeannamarin, muusings



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeannamarin/pseuds/jeannamarin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/muusings/pseuds/muusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>just as soon as you come back home.</i><br/>(or, both perspectives on what could be, as told through paralleled poems.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (dave to karkat)

i.  
  
you remind me of pablo neruda sometimes

because

i didnt know who you were until i was thirteen

and i cant stop reading your words over and over

and also that you are so in love

with love as a concept

that you make me love it too

  
  
you remind me of pablo neruda when

you explain this alien concept of love

multiplied by four and your mouth moves

like me understanding this is the most important thing

you have ever accomplished so someone

can share in the feeling of knowing love from

the outside which is sometimes better than feeling

from in  
  
before all this you and pablo were

text on a screen to me and now you are

real and here and burning a hole in

every layer of me and all i want is

to understand and for you to fill me with

your words shouted or whispered and

make me know you like it feels like you know me

  
ii.  
  
the first time i saw you

you were imploding like a dying star

and right then you sucked me into

the black hole that is you and your entirety

i was gone the first second you screamed

yourself hoarse and i was in disbelief

that a person could stand to exist

that much

and so deeply

and with so much inside them.

  
iii.

since ive known you you have always

been in love with someone

you love a lot of someones but you

were in love with a few

  
i wanted to know what its like to feel so much

that you can say you made the stars for someone

and mean it

and mean that you painted the lines of his bones

in the atoms that make up the stars and me

and how i looked at the stars when the sky was

clear and i was sad and had to not be

to know now that they were never

mine

but yours to his and i think thats unfair

to have so much love in those stars

for one person who didnt know what you meant

when you crafted them

that you gave him the universe and pinpricks

of light that each mean something different

and whole and unique and

i

wish

they

were

mine

  
iv.  
  
the first time you touched me you were angry

every time i think about that it makes me feel a

little sick because you were so angry but you didnt hurt

me your hands have always been gentle and when i think

about

it it was me who touched you because you were being

terrible and i didnt want you to be terrible i didnt

want to see you being terrible

  
  
you dont share people

i think i was disappointed with you because

you were so pure and golden in my head and

your anger burned clean and hot and beautiful

but your jealousy burns like coal dust and

i cant breathe because of it

  
you make me hate loving someone because

you love her too and ive never been able to share

anyone because i am the one that loves too

deeply and sacrifices every ounce of defence

ive carefully crafted and i thought you knew me but

maybe

you didnt and i feel betrayed

for reasons that probably arent the ones

anyone is thinking of and i am enraged and

want to cry but you

want this to work so badly want your happiness

and everyone elses but that isnt how it works

i want to cry so i just make fun of you and joke

and i dont want us to be like this but lately

being around you hurts like flying too close to the sun.

  
v.

i saw you crying exactly once and i didnt know why

i wanted to know why so i could rip apart whatever

made you look at me like i just destroyed you

by seeing you with streaks on your face

and a hole in your heart and you made me swear up and

down

i wouldnt tell anyone

 

i never want to destroy you because

everyone that youve ever loved has

ripped a piece off your heart and ate it

and if i take my share there wont be any

you left and that is tragic, that is a damn shame

because as much as i want to consume you and 

absorb you into my system forever

you are too important to me

for me to even think of being that selfish

i want you to take all of me

you are my best friend and even though ive

never cried in front of you youve taken my hand in

yours when i feel like my soul is wasting away

trapped in this godawful indestructible casing

of flesh that holds me too much

and when you touch me i feel like you know

what all that means and you know that sometimes all

it takes to make it stop is just a single touch

 

i kissed you exactly once and it was lackluster

it was our first

and im so glad i did it even if it sucked because

i dont know how im ever gonna get to you again

and our friends are hurting us against their will

and im not who i was when i met you three years ago and

i choke on my own tears as i hold pictures in my hands

that i want

to rip apart because you arent in them and that

idiot isnt me anymore

i hurt too much and i love too big for him to be me

if you were here youd take them from me

and sit me down and just sit with me

when you’re there it doesn’t hurt so badly

we both hurt.

so. badly.

and when were together we split it up and we deal

and it isnt perfect but now the smell of your hair

is the smell of home.

  
and im scared because i might never get to come home

again.


	2. (karkat to dave)

i.  
i have spent all my sweeps pouring myself into movies, into

other people’s lives on screens, curled blade-scarred fingers into

fat, loosely-muscled thighs

i have cried

unnatural tears sloping down as

(our) angelina jolie kissed a blueblood she shouldn’t have

or her

moirail, too far gone on faygo, on swill

i have watched comedies and dramas and epic, contrived stories of every affection

your mind is too small to fathom.

 

i think after a while i taught myself to equate passion with the dim light of screens,

everything in me channeled to rage and all of that, all of that for him

 

he was your best friend once and for a while he was my everything in the way that

i saw it play out and i cast him opposite me, cast him to oppose me

i made him what i wanted and what i wanted was credits rolling

but i’m not sure i ever truly knew him

 

ii.

i used to think i was born to love her, that our every atom was carved into each-other, that

she would grow to see in me what i never could, no matter how unfair

no matter how foolish. i used to stay awake replaying the sway of her hips, the glint of fangs

more impressive than mine, sharper, horns something to be proud of, blood useful

like that was what made a matesprit, a moirail, a kismesis

and she, the most beautiful, most powerful, i wanted to be worthy of

fighting with her, fighting for her

i wanted to be her everything because i could not explain what i felt

and grew used to fate as a plot device

 

i love her still but in a way four could not predict, deeper than the bottles she has

squeezed herself into

i love her like you explained once, stories of human family half-hidden in metaphors and

mumbled through nervous jokes or the one night you

crawled into my room and said

you saw him bleeding out again and you couldn’t stop picturing the vodka.

i love her like heartache, like wanting only the best for her

like i would die for her, my unintended sister

and it’s fucked but it’s funny how similar yours and mine look

when the two have been drinking.

 

iii.

he used to hold me.

he used to hold me, uncoordinated but earnest enough and i

painted closed eyelids with diamonds and promises while i tossed and turned, i

used to think the world revolved around he and i, he and i, he and i like heartbeats,

used to think i could save him, that i could save the world from him if i tried hard enough

he was a terror to behold

 

he used to hold me, gentle and half-present but it was enough, it was enough and for a brief second i thought i loved him

like i loved her

before i learned to love her better. i thought maybe i could hate him but

in the end it didn’t matter.

i was never strong enough to hold him down but just worthy of holding onto

until our moment passed.

 

iv.

(you don’t hold me like i wish you would but sometimes you

brush past closer than you need to, you trace your thumb over my bloated veins,

the backside of my hand and our scars will kiss, just for a second, fighters’ fingers

soothing each-other

instances smaller than synapses yet infinite, intimate and

i think maybe

maybe this is a start.)

 

v.

you are nothing like the movies.

you are not how i pictured but nothing, nothing like them, nothing like the perfectly-crafted troll-meets-troll melodramas with titles

too long for you to remember

our lives are nothing like blockbuster hits, more tragedy than comedy and the

script got lost in the mail, but one night you kissed me,

too short and too light and supremely under-practiced and part of me thinks that was worth the backstory

that the scenes my character has suffered through to meet yours were worth it

despite horrible ratings and shitty peer reviews

despite a wretched plot and flawed supporting roles and jump scares and i want to thank you

for teaching me how to love beyond projection, how to see

i want to thank you for being the first person i didn’t have to make up and i care

so, so deeply for them, do not think for a moment i don’t

but the parts of them i wrote were just as important to me as the rest and i drowned myself in

what i made them out to be.

 

you brush past closer than you need to, you found me when you startled awake and i can’t sleep

thinking the credits might roll before i get to show you how

a real kiss scene is meant to be, i’m thinking

convenient rain and mary jane and the pads of callused fingers

a confession for good measure, maybe, and the water will collect on the divot of your mouth as i lift off your shades and i will pull you

so close

the world silent behind the swell of the score

 

i will show you how scene one should have gone

just as soon as you come back home.


End file.
